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Everything I do is the attitude of an award winner because I've won an award.


Which of these objects most represents women for this portrait? A pot? Or this deputy director Barbie? Isn't it adorable? She's got a little briefcase, her cell phone.


This VIP card gives you exclusive access to the investment opportunity of a lifetime. Where? Multipurpose room F. When? 3 p.m. Dress code? Black tie optional. Just like life.


Be proud of yourself. You deserve an award. Not this one, obviously. This one belongs to me. But some other one. Some other lesser award.


Andy: April, you're like an angel with no wings.
April: So like a person?

Guitarist: Look, if you're not going to pay rent, at least clean up your dishes.
Andy: Uhhhhhhhhh, is that all?
Guitarist: No. Also the bag of smells was a fun experiment, but it has to stop.
Andy: Come on, no. I'm finally starting to get serious results.

Tom: What about your trust fund?
Jean Ralphio: My parents had it amended. I don't get anything until I'm 50, which is a waste because I'm going to be a billionaire in Costa Rica by then. Eatin' dolphin and hangin' out with lady singers.

Jean Ralphio: No way. Yesterday if you would have asked me, I would have said no. But thank god my grandfather just died so I am a-flushed with cash.
Tom: Awesome. I have four thousand bucks. All I need you to do is kick in six Gs, and then you and I are part-owners of the hottest nightclub in Pawnee. Also, sorry about your grandpa.
Jean Ralphio: No worries, he was a dick.

I want to open up my own club one day, maybe call it something like Club a Dub Dub, or the Club Marine. Sort of a submarine-themed club. Or Tom's Bistro. The word bistro is classy as %#@$.

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